Last First Kiss
by Tirsh
Summary: Sam and Jules relax after a tough call - Just a little fluffy Jam fun. Set post Slow Burn - spoilers for Eagle Two, Personal Effects and Slow Burn notice a theme there?


**A/N ** So a few months ago I set up this account solely so I could leave reviews for Mollylyn - I told her then it was a slippery slope. And I was right. Truthfully, my talents lie more in the realm of harassing (encouraging) other people to update, but sooner or later you start to feel guilty that you're not contributing anything to the party. So - my first (and probably only) fic ever.

Thanks so much to my flashpoint peeps who encouraged me to finish it and to post it - you know who you are - but especially SYuuri - girl is relentless :)

Inspired entirely by two songs - more on those at the end.

**Last First Kiss**

"You know," Sam said wearily, coming through the door and tossing his keys on the hall table, "If another building never comes down on me again, it will be too soon."

"Sam. It was a crate." Jules toed off her shoes as she shut the door behind them.

"Crate full of bricks," he sank down into one corner of the couch, exhausted.

"Yes, Sam. If by 'bricks' you mean pottery," She rolled her eyes as she rummaged around in the freezer. She was trying to keep the frustration out of her voice but after a 12 hour shift, 2 hours in the emergency room and a panic filled half hour spent in the truck while Sam was out cold in the warehouse, her patience was at a premium.

"Felt like a building," he grumbled, mostly to himself, as Jules padded down the hall to the bathroom. Two hours in the emergency room so some teenage doctor could tell him what he already knew – he had a concussion and his shoulder really fucking hurt, although "deeply bruised collarbone" was the official diagnosis. Whatever.

Jules handed him a Cold Pak wrapped in a tea towel and set a glass of water and a bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol on the end table within reach. They had given him something for pain at the hospital, so it was too soon to take anything else, but she knew once she sat down, she wasn't getting up again anytime soon. "Thanks, Babe."

"Can I make you something to eat?" She'd offered to stop on the way home but Sam had turned green at the suggestion so she just kept going.

"Not unless you want me to throw up again," he pouted.

"Really Sam, a simple 'no' would have sufficed."

"Sorry." At least he had the decency to look a little chagrined. Men. No matter how badass they seemed, they were all just one missing sock or a crate upside the head away from whiny toddler. Not that a pouty Sam didn't have some appeal, but she was too busy being irritated to admit it right now. Because if she was irritated, she didn't have to acknowledge how terrified she had been in those moments. Maybe later, with some time and distance she could process that, but for now, annoyed was working for her.

She grabbed her phone and a pair of earphones and settled herself on the couch, stretched out on her back with her head in his lap. She looked up at him, "This okay?"

"It's perfect," he turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until he settled on a soccer game, then, as was his habit, let his hand rest on her shoulder twirling his fingers in the ends of her hair.

So often after a long day or a tough call, they ended up on the couch just like this, wanting, needing the reassurance that physical contact provided – but that didn't necessarily mean they wanted to talk to each other. Jules was the only girl he'd ever known who understood that sometimes, proximity was communication enough. He loved that about her. Of course, sometimes they bypassed the couch entirely and went upstairs to "not talk" about their day. He loved that about her too, but that option was officially off the table for awhile.

They relaxed in companionable silence for about half an hour, Jules absorbed in something on her phone and Sam trying to watch the soccer game. That is until he turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the end table in disgust.

Jules pulled one of her ear buds out, "What's the matter? Another scoreless tie?" she asked sarcastically. She loved hockey, enjoyed the odd football game as long as it was CFL, but she could not for the life of her understand his fascination with soccer.

"No, it's making my head hurt," he sounded more 'annoyed grownup' than 'whiny toddler' so that was progress.

"Soccer always makes my head hurt," she grinned at him.

He half-laughed, "Yeah, you've made your feelings pretty clear on that subject**." **He tugged at the hem of her shirt so he could rest his hand on her bare stomach.

"Sam. Behave."

"Jules. This IS behaving," he teased. "Would you like me to show you the difference between this and misbehaving?"

"No, thanks." she replied quickly but he was apparently going to show her anyway as he started running his fingers across her stomach, making lazy shapes and tracing a path from hip bone to hip bone and back again.

She stilled his hand with her own, "Don't be starting something you're not allowed to finish."

"What does girl Doogie MD know about anything anyway? Kid probably still has a curfew," he grumbled, "And nobody said anything about 'not allowed' she just said be careful."

"She said be careful not to over-exert yourself. You can't just pick and choose the parts of the sentence that work for you and forget the rest. You were out cold for half an hour, you can't screw around with a concussion, Sam."

"Literally, apparently," he muttered.

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Jules, I'm fine," now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"So you're good to go then?" When he nodded, she continued, "Are you sure? You must be hungry. Can I make you a sandwich or something first –maybe egg salad? Tuna fish?"

Sam blanched and clamped his lips together.

"Yeah, you're feeling just fine. I can tell," having made her point she went back to what she was doing.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he nodded toward her phone, "what are you doing there?"

"I'm searching for the perfect ringtones," she flipped through her playlists, rejecting song after song.

"For…?"

"For everyone, but at the moment I'm looking for one for you."

"In that case," he said pulling the earphones out at the base, "I think I need to be a part of this process."

"Control freak much?" she grinned.

"I was standing next to you the last time Spike called. You can't be trusted."

"So not the Beeb for you then?" she asked innocently.

He just looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"Fine. I'm sure I can find something appropriate," she smiled, her brown eyes twinkling, "I have an excellent selection of boy bands to choose from."

"Very funny. Hey, did Spike ever find out that's his ringtone?"

"Yeah, I told him it was a tribute to him and Babycakes."

Sam chuckled, "He buy it?"

"I think so. I checked my boots for shaving cream for like a week just in case and nothing, so I think we're good."

"Could be he's just lulling you into a false sense of security," Sam speculated, "Or maybe he's just a little scared of you."

"In which case, he totally deserves Bieber!"

"Copy that. Moving on. What have you got for me?"

Perhaps because she was still feeling a little cranky and irritable, Jules' perverse side took over. "At the moment, I am kind of leaning toward this one," she clicked on a song. It only took a second for the beginning chords of the Stones' "Satisfaction" to play and only a second more for Sam to recognize it.

"Really, Jules? You're going to go there?" he shot her a playful, smug smile, "Just because I'm SOL doesn't mean you are. I can think of at least two, no wait, three ways to prove you and your little song wrong and I won't even have to break any of Dr. Bossypants' rules to do it. In fact, I probably don't even need to get up off this couch. So, unless you would like a demonstration…" he toyed with the tie on her yoga pants to make his point.

She was so tempted to green light that demonstration. She knew from experience that he absolutely had the skills to back up the cocky bravado. That was precisely how he got away with it – at work and at home. She also knew it would put an end to cranky and irritable. However, she also knew that he really did feel like crap and that he was destined to be frustrated for at least a week until his follow up appointment with girl wonder. So, in the interest of solidarity, she picked another song instead.

Seconds later, the cheeky pep of "Let's hear it for the Boy!" rang out, earning a laugh from Sam. "You're a brat. And while I appreciate the sentiment, it's not exactly the manliest song around. Let's keep trying."

A couple of clicks and Bruno Mars filled the space between them. "I'd catch a grenade for ya…"

"Jules," Sam winced.

"Too on the nose?" she scrunched up her face.

"Given our jobs, maybe just a smidge. Clearly I have to take matters into my own hands," he smiled as he snatched the phone away from her and started flipping through the list himself.

This time it was Jules turn to wince as the soulful voice of Marvin Gaye purred "Let's get it on." "Your singular devotion to one subject is truly impressive. And absolutely not." She snatched her phone back.

"Why not?" He asked, all blue-eyed innocence. "And also? You totally started it," he gave her a little poke in the ribs.

"Because sometimes my phone rings in public, that's why, you perv," she continued scrolling, "and you started it."

"Frankly, I'm surprised a nice girl like you even has that song in her collection." He grinned at her, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Just because I don't choose to act on ALL my basest instincts doesn't mean I can't appreciate a classic when I hear one," she paused, "Of course, if you like, there's always the sanitized version." She loaded up 'I'll Make Love to You' by the Backstreet Boys.

"Nope!" Sam took the phone back. "I thought we agreed no boy bands."

"I made no such agreement," she laughed.

"Besides, as you said, your phone rings in public sometimes and we don't want anyone thinking you actually listen to that shit." He grinned. "How about this?"

"I'm Too Sexy? Accurate. You are definitely too sexy for your own good, but no. I don't want anyone to think that I'm saying that about me when my phone rings."

"But you are too sexy," he trailed his fingers up to lavish attention on the smooth skin just below where her bra came to an end, making it nearly impossible for her to think about anything else.

She brushed his hand away and tugged her shirt back down, "Seriously Sam, a girl can only take so much," Linking her fingers with his so as to keep them from causing trouble, she continued scrolling with her other hand. "How about this one?" The quick and catchy 'Lucky' played.

"Love the words…"

"I sense a but."

"But it's Jason Mraz." He said emphatically as if that explained everything.

"And your problem with Jason Mraz is…?"

"Bearing in mind please that I have already been smacked upside the head once today…it's chick music. Next?" he decided to let her keep her phone because it hurt too much to reach with his right and his left hand was in jail.

"Chick music?" she raised one eyebrow in question.

He smirked. "Chick music. As in pertaining to, listened to exclusively by. See also Buble, Michael and Caillat, Colbie."

"Neanderthal." She rolled her eyes but she did enjoy his quick mind. "How do you feel about country? Is that manly enough for you?"

"Depends on the song," He had an idea. "May I?"

"I don't know." She held her phone out of reach looking at him skeptically.

"Come on, one more. Let me prove I'm not a Neanderthal." He grinned.

"I suppose," Curiosity won out so she handed the phone back to him.

He flipped through her list but the song he was thinking of wasn't there so he went online to find it, a couple of clicks and send ringtone to cell. Done. "What's your iTunes password? I already put it on your phone but you don't have it in your library. I want you to be able to listen to the whole song before you pass judgment."

"Here let me," she made a grab for her phone but he held it out of reach, grimacing as he did, "Sam be careful."

"Well, don't make me stretch so far."

"Then give me my phone."

"So, what? You trust me with your life but not your iTunes password? Really?"

"I trust you. It's just …"

"You're blushing." Understanding dawned. "You don't want to tell me. That's okay. I'll figure it out. Let's see…" he pretended to think about it.

"Sam! You're going to get us both locked out of the account. Just let me do it."

"You get three tries. If I can't get it in two, I'll give it back and you can do it."

"So, you really don't want to tell me and you're all pink and embarrassed, so that means it's about me…" he typed in Samtastic, "And you gotta have some numbers too because Spike is always yammering about the stupid people that just have letters or numbers and not both." Here he stopped for a minute to think about two choices. Eventually he settled on 1122. "And…I'm in!"

"Could've been your birthday," she grumbled making a mental note to change her password first chance she got.

"Nah, badge number is more badass." He winked at her. Besides his password was ssc2166 but that was none of his sexy sniper chick's business.

"Apparently we've been wasting your skills on tac, Ed should put you in the truck with Spike cracking codes and such."

"Your code is the only one I'm interested in cracking, Jules," he flipped through iTunes and quickly downloaded the song.

"Okay. You listen to it but I think we may have a winner." He pushed play and Paul Brandt's 'Last First Kiss' began. Sam knew you really only got one "first" kiss with someone but he kind of felt like he and Jules had three "firsts." There was their actual first kiss on the street in front of the Royal York or as he liked to refer to it secretly in his head, the "thank God she didn't slap me" kiss. Then when they got back together there was the "thank God Jules finally came to her senses" kiss and then finally, this summer, when they got the okay to stay together and stay on the team, the "thank God no more secrets" kiss. He knew deep down that would be the last first kiss for either of them.

As the song finished, he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. "So…?"

She nodded. "We have a winner. And your "sweet" status has been restored." She swung her legs around and sat up, leaning into him for a kiss. "Do you have me set up on your phone?"

"Of course. I may have to change it now though. I like this one better."

"What is it now? Dare I ask? It's not Marvin Gaye is it?"

He flipped through her library to see if he could find it. "You don't have it either. Hang on." He found it and downloaded it.

"Will I approve?" she asked, more than a little concerned.

"It's a great song. And from the first time I heard it, it made me think of you. You'll see why right away." He played 'Canadian Girls' by Dean Brody for her.

"Well," she said when it was finished, "I really never did watch Degrassi, but I can absolutely make a toque look sexy."

"I've seen you do it," he smirked.

"In fact, if I am not mistaken, a toque and a hockey jersey are what pass for lingerie in some provinces," she laughed, brown eyes twinkling.

"Copy that." He laughed, "And frankly, I could give a damn about the toque, but I guarantee you don't want to know how much time I spend picturing you in a hockey jersey and nothing else."

"I really don't." She just shook her head. "But I will keep your wishes in mind for when you're feeling better. It's not like I don't own a hockey jersey or two. Or six"

"I'm a simple man, Jules" He grinned, "But when the time comes, I think it's gonna need to be MY jersey."

"Careful. Your Neanderthal is showing again." she tucked her feet up under her and putting her head on his shoulder and linking her fingers with his, settled in.

He turned the TV back on, found an old rerun of Friends, and rested his head against the back of the couch.

"Jules?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"I'm kinda hungry."

**A/N 2: **this story was inspired entirely by two songs - Last First Kiss by Paul Brandt and Canadian Girls by Dean Brody

the first was mostly about the title but Paul Brandt is awesome if you want to check it out  
I can't post the lyrics here but Canadian Girls could have been written about Jules - google if you care!

Also I realize some of these songs are a little "dated" but I needed songs that were instantly recognizable to most if not all. And if you think they are really dated, I feel the need to tell you that Sam and Jules are probably closer to my age than yours :P

Thanks for reading!


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